For though we love both the truth and our friends, piety

Hear the solemn wisdom of Aristotle, who declared: “For though we love both the truth and our friends, piety requires us to honor the truth first.” In these words shines a principle that pierces the heart like a sword: that loyalty, though noble, must never rise higher than truth. Friendship is sacred, but it is not greater than reality itself. For truth is eternal, while friendship, like all human bonds, dwells within the passing of time. Aristotle commands us to place our reverence rightly: above love of persons, above ties of loyalty, above all bonds of affection stands the holy duty to honor what is real.

The ancients knew this tension well. Socrates himself was loved by many, yet when the jury of Athens demanded he betray his convictions to save his life, he refused. He would not abandon the truth, even for the comfort of friends who begged him to flee. His loyalty to truth outweighed loyalty to companionship, and though he drank the hemlock, his spirit became immortal. Aristotle, inheriting this example, saw clearly that piety—reverence for what is higher than ourselves—requires us to side with truth when affection and honesty collide.

Consider the story of Marcus Brutus, friend of Julius Caesar. He loved Caesar dearly, yet when Caesar sought to crown himself and imperil the Republic, Brutus chose Rome over friendship. In raising the dagger, he did not act from hatred, but from devotion to what he believed was truth and justice. History remembers his act as both tragic and heroic, for it embodies Aristotle’s teaching: when friendship and truth diverge, the higher allegiance must be to the eternal, not the personal.

The origin of Aristotle’s saying lies in his philosophy of ethics, where he sought to order the loves of man. Friendship, to Aristotle, was one of life’s greatest blessings—an essential part of the good life. Yet even so, he declared that the philosopher must not hesitate to set aside friendship if it stood in opposition to truth. Why? Because truth belongs not to one person, but to all, and to betray truth is to betray the foundation of justice, wisdom, and virtue itself.

This teaching carries a hard demand, for it asks us to risk anger, rejection, and loneliness. To tell a friend a hard truth rather than a comforting lie may wound the bond between you. To stand by truth when your community denies it may exile you from those you love. Yet Aristotle teaches that piety—that devotion to what is highest and divine—requires this sacrifice. For falsehood destroys not only friendship, but the very soul of both speaker and listener.

The lesson is clear: do not betray truth for the sake of harmony. If a friend errs, love them enough to tell them so. If loyalty tempts you to conceal what is real, remember that the truest loyalty is honesty. To shield another from truth is to treat them not as an equal, but as a child too weak for reality. But to honor truth above all is to honor both them and yourself, even if pain follows.

Practical steps follow. When conflict arises, ask yourself: am I honoring truth, or merely protecting comfort? Practice honesty in small things, so that in great matters your courage will not falter. Seek friends who themselves love truth, for then your bonds will not be torn by honesty, but strengthened by it. And above all, revere truth as divine, knowing that without it, no friendship, no love, no society can endure.

Thus Aristotle’s words endure as a flame across the ages: though we love both the truth and our friends, we must honor the truth first. Friendship is precious, but truth is sacred. To betray truth for the sake of affection is to place the shadow above the light. Let us therefore walk the harder path, where our words may sting but will heal, where our loyalty is not to comfort but to reality, and where our reverence for truth leads us not only to piety, but to freedom.